


Stupid Stitches

by Phoenix1685



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Diego Hargreeves Whump, Number Five | The Boy Loves Coffee, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, Number Five | The Boy Whump, Protective Diego Hargreeves, The Hargeeves Siblings Are Protective Of Five
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 17:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29513028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phoenix1685/pseuds/Phoenix1685
Summary: Five gets shot by a Commission assassin and his siblings get protective.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 121





	1. Chapter 1

It really didn't hurt as much as he was expecting. 

You hear about the stories, the recountings of those caught in a crossfire, of the agonizing fire-like pain shredding through their body. 

But Five didn't feel any of that. 

This concluded either one of two possible reasons: One, he was already going into shock, or two, the rest of the world was full of nothing but drama queens. 

He preferred the latter. 

He did, however, feel the inability to remain comfortably conscious; his peripherals were fuzzy and dim as he stumbled up the stairs to the Academy, his ears still ringing from the bang, his legs practically jelly. His head felt thick as he tripped over his own feet, landing against the door with a groan as his abdomen was jostled, allowing more thick, dark blood to flow. 

Leaning his full body weight against the door, he glanced down at his bullet wound, prodding at the small dent in his lower right abdomen. He strained his brain, trying to figure out if anything important had been hit but his mind felt like cotton wool, head heavy and weightless at the same time. He still wasn't in pain, though, and, despite everything he learnt in first-aid as a kid screaming at him that that was  _ bad  _ and that he was in desperate need of assistance, he took it as a win. 

He fumbled with the door handle, movements sluggish and uncoordinated and hand slick with crimson. Or was it jam? It looked like jam. He really wanted jam. 

_ Focus, Five _ . He often heard Delores speaking to him, and over time she took on the voice of his conscience. It was nice to always have her with him, and he smiled to himself at the thought. 

_Five, the_ _door._

"Yeah, yeah..." He mumbled, ignoring how his words blended into something that was probably indecipherable. He inhaled, catching himself in a coughing fit. He rose his elbow to his face and hacked up in painful heaves. When he finally managed to stop, he leaned back. The crook of his elbow was spotted in blood, only just visible against the navy of his blazer. 

“Cr’p.” He muttered before his knees gave out and he sat, hard, on the Academy’s doorstep. Groaning slightly at the effort, he turned and leaned his back against the door, his legs sprawled out in front of him and arms hanging limp. 

He glanced up through his hair, blowing the bulk out it out his eyes to gaze at the sky. It was around three in the morning when he last checked, which could’ve been any time between four minutes and four hours ago. 

Time is hard when you’re bleeding out. 

He almost wished he was back in the 1960s as he stared at the night sky. The city pollution clouded the stars, only allowing a few sparkling spots to burn through. 

Back at Sissy’s farm, however, there was no pollution and you could see all the stars as clear as he could see his hand in front of his face; thousands upon millions of tiny balls of light, forming constellations and patterns as far as the eye could see. 

And it was beautiful. 

So, yes, in a strange way, Five missed the 1960s. 

_ You need to get up, Five. _

“Mhm.” He hummed, gaze still lazily fixed on the sky. It wasn’t the worst way to die, he concluded as he dimly felt his shorts soaking with his own warm blood. He wasn’t in any pain, relatively close to home and got a sort-of-okay view as he left. There were definitely worse ways to go. 

The dark in the corners of his eyes began to take over, and he simply let it, allowing his body to relax. 

And then he was falling, in slow motion. Somewhere far off, he heard Klaus calling his name as he fell, eyelids fluttering shut with a relieved sigh. 

Finally, some well-deserved rest.... 

…..beep, beep, beep.... 

The ringing in his ears faded to that all-too-familiar beeping of a heart monitor and he groaned as the light began to cut through the dark bliss of unconsciousness. 

Seriously, couldn’t anyone just let him die already? So inconsiderate.

“Five?” 

“F’ck ‘ff, D’l’res.” He mumbled, waving a marshmallow arm in the direction of her voice, somewhere off to his foggy right. 

“Umm...It’s Klaus, actually, buddy.” 

That didn’t make sense. “Klaus?” 

“Yeah! Hey, kiddo. Can you open your eyes for me?” 

“No...” Five whined, desperately wishing for the darkness to swallow him once more. He didn’t want to have to deal with existence right now. 

“Please, kid?” That was a different voice, right at the foot of his bed. Diego? 

He grumbled but cracked one eye open, immediately closing it again at the obscene brightness of the room. 

“Crap, Diego, get the lights.” 

“Yep.” 

Diego’s footsteps faded and the red behind his eyelids faded to black with the click of the light switch. 

“Okay, there you go, Fivey, can you try again for us?” 

Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, he opened them again. The room was dim, but not too dim to see Klaus’ face inches from his own. 

“Jesus, Klaus.” Five’s heart skipped with a start, backing up along with Klaus, who’s ears burnt red in embarrassment. 

“Sorry.” He smiled, holding up his tattooed palms in surrender. 

Five rolled his eyes as flicked his gaze to where Diego was leaning against the foot of his bed, studying him intensely as if trying to read his mind. “You good, kid?” 

“Yeah.” Five replied, moving to sit up. This failed, his elbows giving out and allowing him to fall back to the pillows with a groan. God, he felt so  _ weak _ . 

“Here, lemme help ya.” Klaus grinned, shifting the pillows so they were supporting his back. Muttering a quick thanks, he returned to looking at Diego. 

“What...happened?” Five questioned, rubbing his eyes. How was he this tired already? 

“You tell us.” Came Diego’s reply, eyes squinting as he studied Five’s face. 

Five frowned, glancing down at his bandaged abdomen. What  _ had _ happened? 

_ “Come ‘ere, kid.” _

The Commission, 

_ “Stand still!” _

They had sent a hitman on him. 

_ “Now I gotcha.” _

He had jumped out of the room last minute...guess he hadn’t been quick enough. 

“I was shot by a Commission hitman.” He recounted to his siblings. Diego’s frown only deepened. “They want me dead for stopping two apocalypses. He had me in a fistfight and I only just managed to conjure up the juice to blip out of there at the last-minute and... well, I guess I wasn’t quick enough to get away completely unharmed.” 

His brothers were silent for a moment. Klaus was fiddling with one of his necklaces, worry splattered evidently across his face whereas Diego was completely stoic, a hardened gaze still locked onto Five’s own. Five had to resist the urge to curl up under his gaze. 

Finally, Diego cleared his throat. “Okay...that still doesn’t explain why Klaus found you leaning against the door, completely unconscious and bleeding  _ everywhere _ . Why didn’t you just come in?” 

Five sighed. “I didn’t have enough energy to jump to the Academy, I had to walk a couple blocks. By the time I got there, I was barely conscious and the door wouldn’t open cuz of the blood and-” He stopped, swallowing his emotions down. “And I thought, screw it, yanno...there’s worse ways to die.” 

Diego’s face morphed into that of horrified disbelief, his mouth hanging speechlessly open. “The hell? You didn’t think to alert us, no? Didn’t think to, I dunno, call?” 

“Lost my phone.” 

“Okay, well...didn’t think to  _ knock on the door _ no?” 

“Oh...yeah.” Five wanted to slap himself. Why didn’t he just knock? 

Klaus sighed next to him, rubbing his hands down his face. “You could’ve died, Fivey.” 

“Don’t call me that, I’m not three.” Five growled. He instantly regretted it as Klaus’ face fell. Five sighed. “I’m sorry, okay? I'm just tired and I thought I had finally caught a break from all this bullshit, but  _ nope _ , now I gotta go sort out the fact that the Commission is back on my arse.” 

He swung his legs off the bed, ignoring the dizzying wave of nausea and standing on shaky legs. 

“Woah, woah, slow down, kid.” Diego rushed forwards, arms out, ready to catch him if he fell. 

Five rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Diego.” He groaned, but he sounded uncertain even to himself. The room was spinning in a sickly shade of green and his brothers’ voices sounded muffled. 

“...ust a few more days.” 

“Okay, fine. Thanks, Mom.” 

When did his eyes close? He wrenched them open to find he was back on the bed, his mother standing over him with that smile. He loved that smile. 

“Hello, sweetie.” She busied herself, removing the bandages on his abdomen to inspect the stitches. “You can’t get out of bed yet, okay? You’ve lost a lot of blood.” 

“But I-” 

“Nuh-uh.” Klaus was on his left now, stroking his hair. He would’ve swatted his hand away if he had the energy. 

“You don’t understand, I....I have to....” The fog was coming back, the black spots creeping back into the corner of his vision. 

“It’s okay, Five.” The blurry figure of Diego came in, leaning against the wall. “We’ll sort out the assassin, you get some rest.” 

“No, I...” His mouth stopped working as he focused on keeping his eye open. 

“Five, sweetie.” He rolled his head to the right with effort to look at his mother. “If you don’t sleep, I’ll have no choice but to drug you so you can heal.” 

“Oh, please!” Klaus’ voice sounded far away. “High Five would be  _ awesome!” _

His eyes drifted close despite his greatest efforts. Klaus’ fingers carding through his hair felt oddly comforting. 

“W’ke me ‘p l’ter.” He muttered. He needed to work on getting to that assassin; Diego would need all the help he could get. 

Klaus laughed. “Sure thing, buddy.” 

And the rest of the world faded into black. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five does love his siblings, almost as much as he loves coffee.

The next time he woke up, the room he was in (which he quickly deduced to be the infirmary) was empty. The sun shone through the shutters, illuminating the room.

He didn’t feel as weak as he did before. He took that as a win.

The infirmary door was slightly ajar. He didn’t hear any voices or movement, which was strangely nerve-wracking. He was expecting to be swarmed by his siblings, to have to fight his way out to grab a cup of coffee.

Coffee sounded great right now.

He swung his legs over the edge of the bed, leaning against the railing for support before taking a tentative step forward. The panelled floor was cold beneath his bare feet.

_ Right, then. Coffee. _

Years of training kicked in as he crept out the door and out into the hall, silent and efficient. He paused at the top of the stairs...silence.

_ Why is it so quiet? _

Maybe no one was home.

He continued down the stairs, avoiding the ones that creaked and going as slow as his caffeine craving would allow. He had just got his siblings out of is hair, he couldn’t risk fucking up a perfect opportunity.

The lower level was, as expected, empty. The couches remained barren, the kitchen was lifeless - it was really starting to freak Five out.

_ Maybe they’re dead. _

Shut up, don’t be paranoid.

_ But where else would they be? _

The store, right? Or just in their respective rooms, being particularly quiet. They could be asleep.

_ Asleep like dead? _

No, shut up. Asleep as in unconscious, breathing, alive.

_ Yes but- _

Stop thinking.

The coffee pot was waiting for him and Five almost cried at the sight of the heavenly black/brown liquid. 

He flicked the switch and heaved himself up onto the side, groaning at the effort. Soon enough, the thick silence of the house was smothered with the sound of the water boiling and bubbling, the bitter aroma of the coffee grounds filling the air.

The switch flicked off and Five moved to stand on the counter, reaching to grab a mug off the top shelf. It felt good to do this without his siblings making stupid comments on his height and how ‘cute’ he was.

He was 58 years old, for fuck’s sake.

He was about to step down from the counter when his foot slipped and he fell, landing on his back with a pained gasp.

“Shit.” He coughed, bringing the air back to his lungs. He focused on the ceiling, waiting for the room to stop spinning before shifting to sit up. The usual “I’m fine.” died at his lips. There was, of course, no one there to say it to, no one to hold his hand and help him up, no one to fuss over him and insist he sit down.

_ Like the apocalypse. _

Shut up, just don’t think. Stop thinking.

He pulled himself up, dusted himself off and glanced around. The painful silence was so uncomfortable.

He should be used to it, after 38 years of solitude, but he had grown used to the constant deafening noise once more to the point where silence was nothing but a cue for death.

_ They’re dead. _

Shut up.

He poured himself his coffee and sat at the kitchen’s island. The steam from the coffee warmed his face as he breathed in the missed scent. 

_ It really is too quiet, Five. _

“I know, Delores. I know.” He muttered, staring at his coffee. His stomach churned with anxiety and he suddenly didn’t see the coffee’s appeal.

_ You should go check on them _ .

“Hm.” He hummed in response, glancing towards the staircase. Maybe he should go check on them.

_ It’ll make you feel better. _

He should go check on them.

He raised his fists and blipped to the hallway that held his sibling’s bedrooms but regretted it immediately as he stumbled back into the banister, his head spinning.

Great. Injuries alway made blipping that much harder.

He glanced to his right. Both Luther and Allison’s doors remained ajar - their rooms were empty.

Huh.

The same went for Klaus’, for Diego’s, for Vanya’s. 

“Guys?” He called down the stairs as he walked back along the hall. He would never admit this but the whole situation terrified him. He felt like a kid waking up to find his parents had left him home alone - every worst-case scenario was flashing before his eyes like a fucked up montage of anxiety.

_ They’re definitely dead, you did it again, Five. _

“Shut up, Delores.” He mumbled as he went back down the stairs, calling his siblings’ names as he went. 

_ You’ve fucked up again. _

“Klaus?”

_ You’ve let them down. _

“Diego?”

_ They’re dead because of you, because you were napping. _

“Shut up, just...Luther? Allison?”

_ Lazy shit. _

“Please, Delores just-” His voice broke as he stopped in the main room, the glittering chandelier above him seeming like a taunt. “Just be quiet, I-I need to think.”

Surprisingly enough, that worked. The silence took over once more.

“Okay.” Five sighed, wiping his hands down his face and ignoring how they came back damp. “Okay, Five, we are going to deal with this in a calm, collected fashion.”

His father’s voice flashed in his mind -  _ “Don’t let emotions cloud your judgement, Number Five! Keep your head clear. Focus on your mission.” _

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and focused. What should you do if your siblings are missing.

_ Call them? _

“Right, yes. Call them, with a phone.” He spoke out loud to fill the silence, muttering “Phone, phone, phone.” under his breath as patted himself down...right, he’d lost his phone when he was shot.

His heart rate picked up immediately. “Okay, okay, that’s fine. This house has to find a phone somewhere.”

He glanced around before his eyes fell on the phone in the living room, sitting next to one of the armchairs. 

He breathed out as he rushed over, grabbing the phone off its stand and holding it in his slightly-trembling hands.

Who should he call?

_ Diego? _

Why Diego?

_ Didn’t he say he’d deal with the assassin? _

Five cursed. Of course his siblings would be idiotic enough to go after a proffessional assassin.

“Okay, so, Diego then.” He muttered, punching in Diego’s number and holding the phone up to his ear, tapping his foot as it rang...and rang...and rang...and-

_ “Hello?” _

“Diego?” Five questioned. His siblings always sounded different over the phone and he didn’t fully trust that he’d actually remembered Diego’s number.

_ “Uh, yeah...wait, is this Five?” _

“Where the hell are you, Diego?” Five practically yelled down the phone.

_ “Jeez, lil bro.” _ Diego sighed. There was shuffling in the backgrounds, faded behind small bangs that sounded suspiciously like…

“Wait, are those gunshots?”

_ “...Maybe.” _

“Oh, for fuck’s sake - you all went after the assassin, didn’t you?”

_ “So what if we did?” _ He was starting to sound out of breath.  _ “He’s a dick named Albert Limeworth, we tracked his address and-” _

“Wait, address?” Five’s heart dropped.

“ _ Uh, yeah, 22-” _

“Diego, time travelling assassins don’t have addresses.”

There was silence on the other end, besides the gunshots.  _ “...So you’re saying-” _

“It’s a trap.” Five breathed. He closed his eyes, willing himself not to panic.  _ Calm and orderly, calm and orderly. _

_ “Crap.” _ Diego was panting now.

“Where are you?” 

_ “Five-” _

“Diego, you son of a bitch, tell me where you are right now or I’ll use your fingernails to peel off your eyelids.”

_ “Jesus.” _ Diego muttered.  _ “Okay, fine, -” _

Five was already out the door, bringing the phone with him as he jumped into one of the cars and hurtled towards the given location at speeds that would give a traffic officer a cardiac arrest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baby Five.

Five followed the address to an abandoned warehouse in the middle of literal nowhere -  _ seriously, the guys tracked an assassin’s address here and not one of them found it suspicious? _ The surrounding area was nothing but long grass fields. The warehouse itself was relatively small, coated in rusted wavy panels of metal that were riddled with bullet holes and decaying at the edges.

Something straight out of a horror movie.

As Five pulled up in his car, his stomach dropped at the sound of gunshots and his siblings shouting on the inside.

He ran in as fast as he could. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in his siblings’ abilities but he knew what Commission assassins were capable of. They could already be dead.

As he came to the door, he forced himself to slow down - he had to be tactical about this or he’d end up dead, and that would be exceptionally irritating.

_ Control your emotions. _

Peering through the slight gap in the door, he could see Diego, Allison and Vanya in a ring in the middle of the room. Allison and Vanya had guns, pointing in every direction, on high alert. Diego had a knife in each hand. His forehead had a large gash that was bleeding profusely and he seemed to be preferring his left leg, but other than that everyone seemed unharmed.

He couldn’t see Klaus or Luther.

_ They’re dead. _

“Shut up, Delores.” He muttered, scanning the area.

The rest of the warehouse had crates and boxes filling up the corners. Some had tipped over, spilling jars and smaller boxes across the floor. He could only hope Klaus and Luther were safe and hiding back there.

_ Or dead. _

Five tightened his grip on the door, scanning the overshaft for the assassin. He had only just heard gunshots, he can’t have gotten far.

He raised his fists and blipped, landing in the overshaft and quickly ducking behind a small crate nearby with a wince as his stitches were pulled. A wave of dizzying pain washed over him as he collapsed into a pile of hay, vision a hazy shade of white.

_ Alright, Five, just breathe, focus. You can’t pass out now, your siblings are counting on you. _

Wow, the one time that Delores is helpful is the one time he wanted to do the complete opposite of what she was suggesting. His eyelids felt heavy and his abdomen throbbed, sending shocks of sharp pain through his entire body. Perspiration was already beginning to gather on his forehead and down his neck and holy  _ crap _ , it was hot.

His heartbeat was loud in his ears, booming in time with every throb of his abdomen, sounding suspiciously like gunshot with every bang -

Wait.

Gunshots?

“Shit!” He ducked down and rolled onto his belly just as an ear-splitting  _ bang _ carved a large splintering hole in the crate where his head had been seconds before.

His stomach flipped and he just had time to struggle to his knees before he threw up, the warehouse spinning in a nauseating shade of green.

He was vaguely aware of someone picking him up by the jacket, the assassin’s blurry face inches from his own, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Everything hurt, his head was killing him and his uniform was, once again, getting soaked in his own blood.  _ Stupid stitches not doing their stupid job properly. _

And then he was falling, and falling and he could’ve sworn he’s been falling for far too long now, but he couldn’t see anything through the dim haze.

His back hit the floor of the warehouse, knocking the wind from his lungs with a sickening  _ crack. _

Oh. He’d been thrown from the overshaft.

He didn’t even try to fight off the steely grip of unconsciousness.

He was starting to hate the infirmary.

Five cracked his eyes open with surprising ease. Glancing to his left, Klaus was asleep in a chair next to his bed. He was slouched, temple rested against his fist, face twitching with the usual amount of Klaus energy - he never was an easy sleeper.

Five’s whole torso was wrapped in bandages, lower back supported by a brace. The gauze on his abdomen told him his stitches had been redone.

Five huffed. Looks like he was constricted to bedrest for a while. That’s okay, he could deal. He could most definitely deal with the assassin still being out there, could definitely just sit here, lazing around in bed while the assassin was waking free, eating donuts and killing people and nope, he couldn’t do it.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he braced his arms on the edge and lifted himself up to his feet. His legs shook from the effort of holding him up and his lower back ached. Walking around with the brace was going to prove difficult, nevermind jumping, but it was a risk he was going to have to take if he was going to take this assassin down.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Five jumped, heart racing as he looked up.

Diego was lying in one of the infirmary beds to the right of his own. His left arm was wrapped from shoulder to elbow, the bandages bleeding red slightly. His eyes were half closed, as if he just woke up. The gash on his forehead was stitched up and his right leg was in a brace. “You fractured your tailbone and ripped open your stitches, you won’t be going anywhere for awhile.”

“Jesus, Diego.” Five breathed, sitting back on the bed. “The hell happened to you?”

“Got shot.” Diego muttered.

Five rolled his eyes. “Yeah, genius, I got that far. I meant  _ how  _ did you get shot?”

Diego sighed, pushing himself to sit more upright. “Well, you fell from the overshaft, so Klaus ran out to protect you cuz your self-destructive arse got yourself knocked out cold.”

“I’m sorry,  _ self-destructive? _ ” 

“I ran out to stop him.” Diego continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “Assassin shot me in the arm while I was dragging both you and Klaus to cover.”

“Huh.” Five muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. “Well, uh...thanks, I guess, but, uh, I gotta go sort out that assassin now so-”

“Oh, we took care of him.”

Five paused his action of trying to stand to stare at him, his brain taking its sweet time in catching up. “Took care of him...as in-”

“Luther snapped him in half.”

“Yep.” Luther was suddenly standing in the doorway. 

_ Jeez.  _ Five thought,  _ My brain must be fucked if I can’t sense someone like Luther coming. _

“I take offense to that.” Oops, he said that out loud. “What Diego is trying to say, Five, is that you have no reason to get up, so lie back down until Mum discharges you.”

“No can do, Teddybear.” Five smirked. “The Commission isn’t just going to give up. They have thousands of assassins, all of which would be more than happy to kill me. I need to figure out their next move before they send another one.”

Klaus piped up next to him with a yawn. “If you can get out of that bed and walk to your room, then you can do just that.”

Five hesitated before steeling his face. “Easy.”

Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself to his feet. He swayed for a second, trying to find his balance.

When finally satisfied, he took one step and landed flat on his face.

His siblings burst out laughing as he pushed himself to his knees, face burning. He turned to lean against his bedpost, glaring at Diego. Unfortunately, the glare seemed to only make him laugh harder.

“Okay, okay.” Luther wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to force his giggling to stop. “Alright, Five, back to bed, come on.”

Five rolled his eyes, moving to stand back up... _ shit _ .

“Uh, yeah, little problem with that...I have no energy left to move.”

It was true. Try as he might, no matter how hard he glared at his legs, they remained uselessly sprawled out on the floor.

“Aww, does baby Fivey need someone to carry him to bed?” Klaus came round and crouched in front of him, ruffling his hair.

Five slapped his hand away. “I swear to god, Klaus-”

“It’s okay, I got this.” Luther reached forward as if to grab him.

Five held up his hands. “A single ounce of a word of this ever again and I will kill you.”

“Sure thing, Five.” Luther smiled. Five rolled his eyes but put his hands down and Luther scooped him up bridal style.

Immediately, Luther started spinning around, singing ‘Rock-a-Bye Baby’ and stroking his hair.

Five punched him in the nose, resulting in Luther nearly dropping him. “Keep babying me and I’ll kick you so hard in the balls they shrink back into you and come out as breasts.”

“Okay, okay, fine.” Luther laughed, placing Five down on the bed and backing away immediately. Smart guy.

Five huffed, staring at the ceiling. This was gonna suck.

Klaus sat down on his bed and began running his fingers through his hair.

“If I had the energy to move my arms, you would be dead right now.” Even Five could hear the severe lack of bite in his tone.

Klaus chuckled. “Sure thing, buddy. Now, go to sleep and when you wake up, I'll ask Vanya to make you a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich.”

As much as Five would never admit it, Klaus’ fingers through his hair felt super comforting, and he was out before he knew it.


End file.
